If I move somewhere that requires me to take up less domestic space, which seems likely, then I will need to get rid of some of my possessions. I’m an accumulator, a.k.a. packrat– I come by it honestly. Luckily, my parents have space that might serve as storage for such easily-stacked things as boxes. So today I took a break from editing to weed my poetry book collection (poetry objects and chapbooks comprise another afternoon’s project). It was so satisfying to relegate Milton, Spencer, and other books I required for academic study, to boxes. I also put away books I’ve never had any interest in reading but collected for various reasons– something someone recommended, or that I thought was important to buy at a low price, or that I’ve had since high school but no longer fit my aesthetics, or that people sent me to review or mention, or books by an author that were not that author’s strongest work. I kept everything that inspires me– that directly contributes to my own work. Collections that remain intact include Blake, Howe, Hejinian, McCaffery, Scalapino, Spahr, and Zukofsky.